


Anima Iungo

by tainted-tash (tainted_tash)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, Humiliation, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-13
Updated: 2015-02-13
Packaged: 2018-03-12 05:38:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3345551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tainted_tash/pseuds/tainted-tash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A stray curse leaves Harry with erectile problems. Fighting this and trying to find a curse leaves Harry done with the machinations of Albus Dumbledore and Harry switches sides. It will soon come to light just how fed up Harry is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anima Iungo

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Jessiikaa15](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jessiikaa15/gifts).



Anima Iungo

Warnings: There is a scene of sexual degrading, though not exactly non-con, more it starts dub-con. I hope this puts no one off, I promise it’s nowhere near as bad as it probably sounds, but in light of recent spats about tagging correctly, consider yourselves warned. Language. Slash. The usual jargon in my stories.

Disclaimer: All things Harry Potter belong to JK Rowling and I make no claims that they are my own. No money is made from this story and no copyright infringement is intended.

Now, onto more pleasant things. This was written for my closest and most special friend, Jessikkaa. It was meant for Christmas, but health got in the way and it is more a birthday present as well as a Christmas one. She holds the written copy and this is just the more ‘updated’ version. So Jess, this one’s for you :* Much love

 

Anima Iungo

 

Once again checking that his glamour was fixed in place, Harry pushed the doors to the throne room open and walked calmly toward the Dark Lord. He took a sadistic sort of pleasure at the look of surprise and curiosity on the snake-like features of Lord Voldemort.

Several Death Eaters advanced on him, but a cold glare from him had them faltering in their steps. Stopping before the Dark Lord, he swept into a bow and lowered his eyes to the floor.

“I come to serve my Lord,” he announced quietly.

Soft titters could be heard, but he paid them no mind. At last, Voldemort spoke. “And just who might you be?”

Harry kept his eyes on the floor. “My name is Thantanos.”

“And if I cancelled your glamour I would see that isn’t true, wouldn’t I?”

“Yes, my Lord, but I'm placing my trust in that you will not do that.” Harry could practically feel Voldemort preening in the silence that followed his quiet words.

“Why the need to keep your identity hidden?”

“For two reasons, my Lord. I do not think anyone here would believe me genuine. And, secondly, it's safest for all here if the Light side not find out, or suspect.”

“So, you come from the old man’s side?”

Harry nodded. “I do, my Lord.”

“But you are here.”

“Here I am,” Harry agreed. “I find my eyes have been opened. I have been... misled. It would seem all is not as I've been told.”

“Look at me!” Voldemort hissed.

Harry, used to Snape’s plundering of his mind, was prepared for the battering assault of Voldemort in his head. Pushing forward the fake memories of Thantanos, he eventually felt the Dark Lord leave his mind.

“You are extremely proficient in Occlumency, Thantanos.”

“Yes.”

“They are not real memories.” 

It wasn’t a question, but Harry answered anyway. “No, they aren’t.”

“Your identity will be quite the revelation when it is found out.”

Harry laughed darkly. “Yes, I imagine it will be, my Lord.” 

Though the cold, hard marble floor hurt his knees, Harry said nothing of it. Showing weakness at this stage would have the Dark Lord and the Death Eaters eating him alive.

“Come here, Thantanos.”

Not making the mistake of climbing to his feet, Harry shuffled forward on his knees. “Yes, my Lord?”

“You know Harry Potter?”

“Yes, my Lord, we attend the same school. We are in the same year, even.”

“You will take the Mark?”

Harry nodded. “Provided I may glamour it, my Lord. It would not do to have the entire school know within the week that I've changed sides.”

“The old man can see through glamours.”

“Not mine, my Lord.”

“You think you are that powerful?”

“I know I am. He has yet to see through any of them.”

Voldemort frowned. “You wear others?”

Harry paused before finally answering. “On my back.” Harry could see questions in his eyes, but none were voiced and he did not elaborate further.

“I will allow the concealment of the Mark. Consider yourself privileged, Thantanos. I don’t allow any of my Death Eaters to hide their Mark through magical means.”

“Not even the Elite?”

Voldemort shook his head. “No, not even them.”

“And what rank will I be at?”

“You will start at the bottom like the others.”

Harry shook his head. “Not acceptable.”

Voldemort blinked for a moment before replying. “I beg your pardon?”

“I start at the Elite rank or I walk out of here now and I won’t come back.”

“I do not bargain,” the Dark Lord hissed.

“Goodbye then.” Harry turned on his heel and strolled casually toward the door.

“Stop. Prove yourself. Prove your talent, and I will consider it.”

Harry smiled, not kindly. “Give me your best duellist.”

A tall, masked figure stepped forward and brought their wand to level at Harry’s face. 

“And you are?” Harry asked.

“This is my best duellist, and that is all you need to know,” Voldemort answered for the masked man.

Harry nodded. “Very well. All spells acceptable, except the Killing Curse. I don’t think the Dark Lord would be too happy if I killed his best duellist.”

Voldemort smirked but decided not to comment on that. “Backs together, gentlemen. Ten paces, turn and bow, then you may begin.

Harry followed the rules of duelling to the letter and turned on the last pace. bowing, Harry dived into a roll, narrowly avoiding a Confringo to the face.

Retaliating with a Cruciatus, he was marginally impressed when his opponent sidestepped carefully. But that was short lived when the sidestep walked the masked Death Eater into a Bone Crushing Hex that shattered his left arm.

To his credit, the man merely grunted and hissed, whereas others would usually scream in pain. Not giving him time to recover, Harry threw a slashing hex, followed by another Bone Crushing Hex then finished with an Imperious.

Forcing the man to fall to his knees, Harry had him remove his mask and was surprised to find himself facing Severus Snape.

Harry sneered. “This is your best duellist? I am wholly unimpressed.”

Releasing Snape from the Imperious, he strode forward and gripped his chin. “If you are the best that he has, then it is safe to say that none of you will last long in a battle against the Light.”

Voldemort rose and hissed in anger. “You dare insult my Death Eaters?”

“I dare when I need only use five spells to completely incapacitate your supposed best dueller. This is pathetic!”

Snape, for his worth, hung in head and bowed to Harry. “In all my years of duelling, I have only come across that kind of power once.”

Voldemort’s head snapped to where Snape stood. “Explain yourself, Severus.”

Snape bowed to him. “The only other person to ever beat me in a duel was you, my Lord. The boy fights like you do.”

Harry locked eyes with Snape and tipped his head in acknowledgement. “It seems you are capable of giving praise, Professor Snape.”

Snape blinked, but made no comment. Harry could already hear the gears turning in his mind. Dawning flashed in the black depths before he face went carefully blank.

Checking his watch, Harry sighed. “It’s time I was getting back. It’s almost light and I cannot afford to be caught sneaking back into the castle.”

Voldemort nodded. “You will return to the next meeting.”

Again, it wasn’t a question, but Harry nodded all the same. “I’m sure the professor can find a way of alerting me.”

Voldemort passed them both pocket watches. “They’re two-way watches. One of you taps yours with your wand and the other one will heat up. Think of the message you wish to convey and it will appear on the face of the recipient watch. There is no need to be concerned with others reading it, they are tuned to your magical signature and only activate when you touch them.”

Catching his when it was thrown to him, Harry ran his fingers over the face and changed the pin to a wrist strap. Pulling off his old one, he fastened it in place. “Quite beautiful, my Lord. I thank you deeply.”

Snape bowed. “As do I, my Lord. I shall ensure that the boy makes it back to school safely.”

Voldemort nodded, erecting a privacy bubble around them. “Very good, Severus. I urge you not to try and find out his identity. We cannot afford to lose him. It is the only edge that we have and I am not prepared to lose it to the old man.”

“Indeed, my Lord. I remain your servant.”

Harry watched the exchange with intrigue, glad that he had learnt to lip read. “If he hears my identity from someone other than myself, then I am not worthy of my Lord.”

Voldemort’s face showed momentary surprise before smirking triumphantly. “I look forward to the day you are not only revealed to me, but to that blathering old fool who calls himself a headmaster.”

Harry chuckled delightedly. “You aren’t the only one looking forward to that day. Should I learn of others that may be useful additions to the Dark side, I will bring them along.”

“Very good. Now, return to Hogwarts. It would serve us no good to have to explain your absence.” Voldemort clasped Harry’s shoulder painfully.

Harry nodded and rode out the ache radiating from his shoulder. “Of course not, my Lord. I will take the Mark on our next meeting, if that works with my Lord’s schedule?”

“It does. I will see you at the next one, Thantanos.”

Harry bowed, as did Snape, and left with the Potions master. Allowing Snape to take his arm, Harry grimaced through the unpleasant squeeze of Apparition.

He decided that side-along Apparition was far worse than going it alone. Having to feel Snape’s magic wash over him was uncomfortable and left him feeling a little bit sick, if he was totally honest.

Harry turned to head up to Gryffindor Tower when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Looking coldly back at Snape, he raised a brow in question.

“I hope you know what you’re doing. This is a dangerous game you are playing, Mr. Potter.”

Harry laughed darkly. “My name is Thantanos, Professor. And I’m not playing any games. But, I will give you this piece of advice: get yourself on the winning team, because I can assure you, it isn’t the Light. Not anymore.”

Shrugging off the hand that grasped his shoulder, Harry walked away and headed for the tower. He checked the map several times along the way, lest he run into Filch, or worse, Dumbledore.

As luck would have it, Harry passed no one and managed to slip up to his dorm without issue. Ron lay snoring in bed, Dean curled up beside him. Seamus was missing and, judging by what the map was telling him, was currently fucking Lavender in her bed.

Stripping and climbing between the sheets of his own bed, Harry yawned and checked his new watch. He had four hours before breakfast. The would have to suffice.

x~x~x~x~x~x

Rubbing his gritty eyes, Harry looked up and down the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall, trying to find something appetising to eat. Plucking some toast from one of the many racks, he lightly buttered it and took a nibble.

Lack of sleep made him irritable, and his year mates seemed to sense this, the entire house giving him a wide berth. 

Ron and Dean plonked themselves down on either side of him, with Dean sliding him a cup of coffee and Ron passing him the sugar. 

"Everything all right, Harry? You look shattered, mate," Dean murmured, concern etched on his features. 

"I'm fine, Dean. Just struggled to sleep last night."

The Gryffindor left the subject alone and grabbed himself some bacon, slipping the rashers between to some bread to make a butty. 

Ron gave Harry a look that said 'we'll talk later'. Harry nodded and gave him a reassuring smile. His red-headed friend relaxed and snagged himself some breakfast. 

When it came time to head to Potions, Harry couldn't help the shiver of discomfort that worked its way down his spine. Though he knew that Snape suspected who he was, Harry had given nothing away as to his identity. 

What bothered him more was his not knowing which side the Potions Master really played for. And his only way of finding out was to reveal who he was, or rather who Thantanos was. 

Grimacing at the idea of that, Harry grabbed his book bag and left the Hall with Dean and Ron. 

"What happened to you last night?" Ron whispered. 

Harry glanced back and saw Hermione trying to listen in. "Later, Ron. I'll explain everything later."

Seeing their former best friend trying not to look interested in what was being said, he snorted loudly. "Sure thing, mate."

Dean clapped them both on the back. "What's all this whispering? You better not be stealing my man, Harry!"

Grabbing Dean and kissing him quickly, Harry winked at him. "Nah, mate, it's you I'm after."

They all fell apart laughing and lined up outside Snape's classroom. Managing to pull themselves together just as the door flew open, they all filed into the room silently. 

Harry took his seat at the desk behind Ron and Dean, forcing back his sneer when Hermione sat next to him. 

So that Ron and Dean could work together, Harry had agreed to work beside, but not with, her. He wasn't overly pleased with the arrangement, but he accepted it, for their sake. 

Harry wrote down the lesson instructions that Snape gave, not what the board said. He'd learnt over the seven years he'd been there that the professor purposely wrote at least one of the stages in the wrong place. 

Brewing flawlessly, he couldn't help but snigger at the witch working next to him. The more flustered she became, the frizzier her hair grew. 

"Potter! Detention, tonight, seven o'clock!" Snape bellowed. 

Harry rolled his eyes, but nodded. "Yes, sir."

Catching Hermione's smirk, Harry dropped a flobberworm skin into her cauldron and watched the option turn a sickly yellow colour. 

"My, my, Miss Granger. It appears we don't know everything after all. That's a fail for the day. Class dismissed!"

Harry almost felt a twinge of guilt for Hermione, the tears welling in her hazel eyes before they spilled over. Almost. But then he remembered her behaviour when had politely, but firmly, shot down her advances. 

The fight had been horrendous, and after a stray hex of Hermione's caught Harry in the groin, he'd washed his hands of her. 

He later found out, after tolerating the pain for a week, that Hermione had used an unknown curse to render Ron incapable of having an erection. Ever. 

Madame Pomfrey had been able to stop Harry from being in near-constant agony, but she had, unfortunately, been unable to remove the hex. He'd even approached Hermione to remove it, but she'd admitted she had no idea how. 

And that was the straw that broke the camel's back, as the Muggle saying went. Harry's rage had exploded and by the time anyone had thought to fetch McGonagall, Harry had hexed Hermione so much, she'd required a trip to the hospital wing. 

They'd lost two-hundred points that, and though many bemoaned it, Ron and Dean had been completely understanding. 

That had been over six months ago. None of the three men had spoken to her short of what was required for their lessons. Harry suffered no more pain but he still had to see Madame Pomfrey for treatment. He'd not been able to get an erection since that day.

Hermione had tried to rectify things at first, but Harry didn't care to listen and brushed her off every time. Now she just took to trying to find out all she could. Which led Harry to believe that she was getting information for Dumbledore. 

Harry managed to survive his lessons without hexing the nosy bitch, though it had proved difficult at times. Especially when his hand constantly twitched toward his wand. He had until after dinner before he was due for his next round of treatment with Madame Pomfrey. He managed to eat a few bites but found his appetite lacking. 

"Come on, mate, we'll walk you to the Infirmary," Ron murmured in his ear. 

Harry nodded and accepted the offer for what it was: company to distract him from what lay ahead. 

His treatment always went the same way. The school Healer would scan him to see if the hex had diminished over time, then she would do some chanting, working to weaken the hex, though its hold could not be broken. After that, it was an embarrassing moment behind a curtain trying to get himself hard. 

After six months of this, Harry had learnt not to get overly excited as the result was always the same. He walked away frustrated and upset when nothing happened in his nether regions, not even so much as a twitch. 

He certainly didn't think this time would be any different. Apart from Hermione, the one who had hexed him, only Ron and Dean knew of his...difficulty. Harry was certain there was a cure- it was just a matter of finding it. Merlin knew he'd been waiting patiently enough for one. 

Ron and Dean dropped him off at the doors to the Hospital Wing and wished him good luck. Giving them a confident smile, Harry slipped into the Infirmary and met Madame Pomfrey at exactly the same bed he'd been using for the past six months. 

"Evening, Harry. Here we are again. Same as usual please, strip and under the sheets. I'll be back in five minutes to get started."

Harry nodded and did as instructed. Slipping between the cool, crisp sheets, Harry sighed quietly. He had no idea why he was even bothering to hope something would be different this time, his hopes were never answered.

Pomfrey returned and Harry laid back so she could perform her scans easily. Magic washed over him and moments later he heard her sigh. “Not much of a change, but still better than last time.”

Harry nodded numbly, not bothering to verbally answer her. Her soft voice reached his ears as the chanting began. More magic danced over him and, although it wasn’t unpleasant, it wasn’t exactly comfortable either.

“You can sit up now, Harry.”

Doing just that, Harry looked to her. “Same as usual?”

Pomfrey nodded. “Yes, but I want to try something a little different this time.”

Harry paused before slowly nodding. “Okay, it can’t hurt at this stage.”

“Normally, we work with you just touching yourself, but I have acquired some visual stimulus too. Now, you’ve already made your preferences clear, so I made sure all the purchases were made to that taste.”

Harry blinked stupidly. “I don’t understand, Madame Pomfrey.”

Pomfrey smiled. “I believe the Muggles call them videos?”

“But I thought they wouldn’t work? It says in Hogwarts: A History that electrically powered devices don’t function within the castle because of the static interference from magic.”

Pomfrey nodded. “That is true. However, what it doesn’t say in there is that if you use the right combination of spells, you can get the device you want to work to run on magic as opposed to on electricity.”

“How come it doesn’t say that in any of the books in the library? At least, it doesn’t in any of the ones I’ve read.”

Pomfrey laughed. “And have all the students that know about portable gaming machines using them? It would be a nightmare!”

“You have a point there,” Harry laughed.

“So, how about it? Shall we give it a try?”

Harry shrugged. “Like I said; it can’t hurt to try.”

Pomfrey squeezed his shoulder. “That’s the spirit, Harry. There’s not a thing I haven’t found a cure for yet, I don’t plan to start now. So, get comfortable and I’ll set everything up for you.”

Shuffling down under the sheet, Harry settled back against the pillows and waited for Madame Pomfrey to return. Once the medi-witch had made sure everything worked, she left Harry alone and returned to her office.

Harry watched the video play, two young man appeared on the screen, kissing passionately but without the cheesy porn look that most video’s gave. This seemed more natural and like the men were not aware of the camera taping them.

The sight of them was enjoyable, but nothing happened downstairs. Growling, Harry snatched the vial of lube off the nightstand and poured a generous amount over his fingers.

Gently sliding his fingers over himself, Harry could feel the coolness of the gel-like substance, but his prick gave no response. Hot tears of frustration slipped down his cheeks and a quiet sob echoed around the empty Infirmary.

Rubbing his right hand over the fingers of his left, Harry moved it behind himself and slid a finger into his arse. It felt good, but again, his cock remained motionless.

Another sob fell from his lips and Harry yelped when the curtains were suddenly ripped open. Harry raised his head and was met with the dark gaze of Snape.

Before Harry could think to react, Pomfrey emerged from her office and hit Harry with a sleeping spell, screaming at Snape to get out. Darkness overcame him, and the last thing he saw was the malicious glee in Snape’s eyes, making Harry vow that he would make the greasy bastard pay for this.

~x~x~x~x~x~

When Harry came to, he was still in the Hospital Wing, but Snape was, thankfully, nowhere in sight. Pulling himself up into a sitting position, Harry looked around the room, finding Madame Pomfrey coming from her office.

“Ah, you're awake.”

Harry nodded. “Seems so. Where’s Snape?”

“Gone. I’m sorry, Harry. My wards didn’t go off when he came in. Are you all right?”

“Oh, yes, fine. A man who despises me is no doubt now fully aware of my condition.”

Pomfrey sighed. “My only guess is that he knew you would be here. Severus had no reason to come to the Infirmary and he had nothing to say to me after I put you to sleep.”

Harry had a fair idea who had told Snape, and he knew it wasn’t Ron or Dean. And since only one other person knew, the answer was rather obvious.

“I have a fair idea,” Harry growled.

“Don’t go seeking trouble, Harry.”

He smirked. “Oh, I won’t need to, don’t worry.”

Dressing quickly, Harry returned to the dorm and sat next to Ron and Dean on the sofa. “Snape knows.”

Harry jumped up and smacked Dean on the back when he started choking on whatever sweet he’d just stuck in his mouth. “Christ, Dean, be more bloody careful.”

Dean wiped the tears from his eyes. “Well don’t just spring that on a guy, Harry!”

“Sorry, mate, you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m okay. Just fine.”

“So, how does Snape know?” Ron asked quietly.

Harry watched Hermione enter the common room through the portrait hole and narrowed his eyes. “I’ll give you one guess.”

Ron followed Harry’s line of sight and actually growled. “Why am I not surprised? You just can’t help yourself, can you?” He called to her.

“Excuse me?”

“Always sticking your nose in where it doesn’t belong. Why the hell would you use Snape to humiliate Harry like that?” He demanded.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Ronald.” Perhaps if you elaborate what you’re blathering on about?”

“Go fuck yourself, Hermione.”

“Must you be so crude in your insults?” She sneered.

Harry got up. “Must you be a class-A cunt?”

Hermione glared at him, her eyes blazing. “What is your problem?”

“You. You're my problem. Why, Hermione? Why Snape of all people?”

Guilt darted quickly across her face but it was gone as quickly as it had appeared. “As I told Ronald, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about. But it doesn’t matter, I’ll make him pay for ever thinking he can use this against me. And you? I’m going to destroy you bit by bit, Hermione.”

Without waiting for an answer, Harry turned his back on her and headed for the boys dormitory. He had some thinking and planning to do.

Looking up when his bed dipped, Harry found Ron and Dean sat either side of him. “You know we’re always behind you, Harry. In anything and everything,” Ron said quietly from his left.

Harry frowned but nodded. “Yeah, I know that, Ron.”

“In anything,” Dean stressed from his right.

Harry glanced between them carefully. "Okay, the same for you guys. You're my brothers in all but blood. Where is this going?"

"Where were you last night, Harry?" Ron asked. 

"At a meeting."

"Not an Order meeting?"

Harry shook his head. "No."

Dean blinked once. Twice. "You were at a Death Eater meeting?"

Harry nodded slowly. "Yes."

Ron gaped. "How in the name of Merlin's balls are you still alive?!"

"They don't know who I am. Snape suspects it's me, but I didn't confirm or deny it."

Dean sniggered wildly. "Mate, you should have been a Slytherin."

Harry laughed. "I almost was. That's where the Hat wanted to put me. I still think I made the right decision in choosing Gryffindor. Wolf in sheep's clothing and all that."

Ron nodded with a grin. "No one will know what hit them! What about the Dark Mark?"

"I'm taking it at the next meeting. Voldemort agreed that I could use a glamour over it."

"What are you going to do about Snape?" Dean asked. 

Harry smirked coldly. “Come to the next meeting with me and you’ll find out.”

Ron and Dean looked at each other a moment. “All right. When is it?”

Harry blinked a moment before grinning. “I don’t know. I have a feeling it might be tonight, though. Snape has some damaging information about me and he’ll be just dying to share it with Voldemort.”

Dean laughed. “If he wasn’t such a bastard I’d almost feel sorry for the git.”

Ron shook his head and laughed. “Come on, mate, give us a hint?”

Harry smirked again. “Simply put? I’m going to humiliate him. And that’s all I’m going to tell you or it won’t be any fun.”

The trio talked about more mundane things, including how Ron’s mother had taken her youngest son’s sexuality. Harry had the joy of listening to how Molly Weasley had screamed at Ron for hours before he’d packed his things and left for Dean’s, where he had stayed for the summer.

The other seventh years turned up for bed and it was almost one in the morning before Harry felt his watch heat up. Looking at the face, a small message appeared: my office. Ten minutes.

Harry snorted then hissed at Ron and Dean to get dressed. Fixing their glamours and making sure he could maintain them along with his own, he swept all three of them under the invisibility cloak.

Tucking away the invisibility cloak when they reached Snape’s office, Harry had a brief argument once inside about his added company and slammed his fist against the desk in a sigh of finality.

Harry then glared at Snape’s eye roll before the Potions professor ushered them all into the floo with a clear cry of Riddle Manor!

Entering the throne room, Harry, Ron and Dean swept into a bow and sunk to their knees before the Dark Lord.

“My Lord, I bring two others to the ranks. They are of the same opinion as myself and no longer wish to be held under the old man’s thumb.”

He heard Voldemort laugh quietly. “Excellent, Thantanos. I admit myself impressed with your fast work.”

Harry bit back the smirk threatening to appear on his lips. “Thank you, my Lord. Though my work is only seemingly fast because this meeting is just the next day from the last one.”

“Yes. Severus sent me a message that he had something of great interest to tell me. Come, Severus, share your findings.”

Harry could practically feel Snape’s smirk as he approached Voldemort. His own smirk remained hidden in his mind until the opportune moment to strike presented itself.

Snape smirked all through telling the Dark Lord that Harry Potter was experiencing erectile dysfunction at the hands of a poorly aimed curse. It seemed that Hermione would spill her guts after a round of sex.

Harry noticed two things at that moment. One, that Snape conveniently neglected to tell Voldemort that young Granger was a student. Secondly, Harry was fully aware that sex with the witch never happened. And therein lay Harry’s opportunity to take Snape down several pegs.

Waiting until Snape was done talking, Harry raised his head and met Voldemort’s cold, red gaze. “Forgive me, my Lord. You requested a sharing of information and so I listened. I hope that was not presumptuous of me?”

Voldemort laughed. “Not at all, dear Thantanos. I sense you have something to add. Rise, your companions as well, and tell me.”

Harry gracefully rose to his feet and a smirk slid onto his lips. “I fear that Professor Snape may have endangered his position at the school.”

Voldemort frowned. “Why do you say this? He has brought us valuable information that could be used to our advantage.”

“That he has, my Lord. But... Well, Granger is a student at Hogwart’s, my Lord.”

Voldemort hissed angrily. “Is this true, Severus? You had intimate relations with a student to gain this piece of knowledge?”

Snape seemed to realise his mistake and nodded slowly. “She was eager to speak after I slept with her, my Lord. I did not think this would displease you as it brought something we can use to bring the boy down.”

“Had it been another professor or even someone the boy knows not at that school it would have pleased me greatly. But Thantanos is correct, you have potentially jeopardised your place there. Not only have you given the old man a reason to be suspicious of you, but did you not think that if young Miss Granger is so quick to betray Potter that she may ultimately do the same to you?”

Snape appeared startled. “I admit it did not cross my mind, my Lord.”

Harry had a look of concern on his face. “How do you know this information is accurate, my Lord?”

“I have seen it in his mind.”

“But, my Lord, forgive my doubting you, but if I can create false memories, then what is to say that he cannot?”

Voldemort seemed to consider this thoughtfully. “You have a valid point, Thantanos. What course of action do you suggest?”

Harry chuckled darkly. “Allow me to wring the truth from his lips, a chance to prove myself worthy of taking your Mark.”

The Dark Lord nodded. “Very well, I am always pleased by initiative.”

Harry smirked and stepped back from the Dark Lord and bowed deeply. Removing his cloak and rolled his shirt sleeves to his elbows. “Does my Lord give me free reign to do as I please?”

Voldemort chuckled. “You may do you wish but do not kill him. Even if he has lied, I still have use for him. But corrective measures are more than welcome.”

Harry nodded. “As my Lord wishes.” Stalking closer to Snape, he paced around him. 

“Tell me something, Professor. You say you got this information on Potter after you fucked Granger, correct?”

“Not that I enjoy repeating myself, but yes, that is correct.”

Harry chuckled. “And that is they story you are sticking to? Last chance to change it, Professor.”

Silence greeted Harry’s question and he grinned. “Oh, Professor. Do you remember what Umbridge had carved into my hand with her Blood Quill when I was in my fifth year?”

Snape blinked stupidly a moment before his eyes blazed. “Potter!” He hissed.

Without answering, Harry forced Snape to his knees and dropped his glamour. “Very good, Professor.”

Harry was surprised when no one attacked, but perhaps there was something deep within Voldemort’s mind that was already aware that he was Harry Potter. Silencing Snape quickly, Harry began walking around him again.

“Your story interests me, Snape. It would be completely believable, if not for one tiny somewhat significant problem.”

Snape glared at him, mouth flapping but no sound could emerge. 

“Shall I tell you why I don’t believe you? You see, my Lord, our dear professor here is not interested in women.”

Snape shook his head vigorously, eyes wide with fear now.

“I’m lying, am I? Well, we can’t be having seeds of doubt being planted. I guess I’ll just have to show him.”

Harry quickly had Snape changed to the cold, marble floor, hands restrained behind his back. Circling the bound Death Eater, Harry silently appraised his work.

“I admit I’ve never found myself attracted to the female form. Too soft, all curves. No offence, Bella,” he said, tipping his head in her direction. “But men? They’re all hard lines and hardness. Immovable. It’s an exhilarating thought.”

Harry’s voice was quiet, seductive, and husky. He could tell Snape was reacting to it. The Potions Master was attracted to power and Harry oozed it.

Lifting Snape up slightly, Harry pulled his trousers down over the pale arse and settled him back on his heels. Sitting on his haunches, Harry reached out and unzipped his trousers. He pulled out Snape’s cock and chuckled darkly when he found the man already to be half hard.

“Are you sure you’re not attracted to men? Because your dick tells me otherwise.”

Snape tried to buck away but Harry just squeezed his cock. Hard. He was quite certain that if Snape had the use of his voice, he would be wailing quite beautifully.

“You’re an interesting creature, Professor. You have a rather unique ability to lie your way out of anything. I’ve seen you lie to the headmaster’s face without so much as blinking.”

Harry stroked Snape’s cock to full hardness and cast a lubrication charm on his free hand, his left. Shifting to the side so he could better reach around Snape, Harry removed the silencing charm on him and reached around to work a finger into Snape’s arse.

Snape whimpered softly, his eyes glued to Harry’s blazing green ones. The cock in his hand twitched and Harry gave it an answering squeeze.

Pumping the finger he had inside Snape, he added a second and twisted his wrist to better angle his buried fingers. 

He knew when he’d found the Potions Master’s prostate by the loud mewl of pleasure he gave. Harry could hear chuckling behind him and grinned cheekily over his shoulder at the Dark Lord.

Stroking faster over Snape’s prostate, Harry clamped his hand around the base of Snape’s twitching cock and stopped the onrushing orgasm he knew was building. He applied just enough pressure to stop Snape from coming and to cause slight discomfort, but not to cause pain.

Snape whined again and Harry laughed coldly. “So, did you sleep with Granger? I don’t think you did. She’s a lot of things, including a prude. I think you lied. I think she was looking for a way to hurt me, and the easiest way to do that was to use you to humiliate me.”

Harry’s fingers continued to stroke Snape’s prostate while his other hand kept up the unrelenting grip around the base of his cock. Listening to Snape’s whimpers and moans, Harry pumped the hand buried in his arse faster.

“You still haven’t answered my question, Professor. I’m giving you the chance to tell the truth. Lie to me and I will stop now, and then make sure you go without pleasure ever again,” Harry whispered in his ear.

Snape moaned when Harry added a third finger, spreading them so he opened the man’s arse up. “Come on, Professor. I’m waiting, and I get very testy when I’m made to wait too long.”

“No! For the love of Merlin, no, I didn’t fuck her! Let me come! Please!” Snape wailed.

Harry loosened the grip on his cock, his fingers pumping into Snape faster, fingertips constantly brushing over his prostate, until the Death Eater threw his head back and screamed his release.

Harry removed his bonds and Snape slumped against him. Lowering him to the floor gently, Harry cast a cushioning charm under him and got up to face the Dark Lord. He smiled lazily and bowed. “Is my Lord pleased?”

Voldemort chuckled. “Indeed. An excellent show. I find myself mildly disgruntled to confess that it was not you I expected to find under that glamour.”

“I couldn’t run the risk that you wouldn’t kill me on sight.” Harry dropped the glamours on Ron and Dean, the pair smiling at Harry.

“Not what we expected at all, Harry. Jolly good show!” Dean chuckled.

He bowed. “I aim to please. Have I earned my Lord’s Mark?”

The Dark Lord nodded. “Answer me something first and I will decide finally from there.”

“Of course, ask away.”

“Why have you come to me now? What’s changed to make you leave the side of the old man?”

Harry took the time to really think about it before he answered. “It’s been a year since I lost my godfather. I was given no time to grieve and still ignored my pleas not to go back to my relatives. Now, I'm expected to trust him on these tasks and quests he has been setting me and gives me no explanations. I refuse to be a pawn in his machinations.”

The Dark Lord nodded. “I can understand that. It is not in the nature of Albus Dumbledore to share information. He is of the belief the he needs to give nothing, but expects everything.”

“I ask one thing of you, and if you can either do it or give me an honest reason why you can’t, then I will stand by you in the war,” Harry said quietly.

“Ask and I will see what I can do. If it possible then it will be done.”

Harry nodded. “Bring my godfather back.”

Voldemort dipped his head once in acknowledgement. “It will be done. Can your godfather handle the side you have chosen, Harry?”

“Yes. Sirius was aware of my feelings on Dumbledore before he died. I’m almost certain he was the cause of Sirius’ death. I know Bella cast the curse, but it was meant for me. From what I remember, Dumbledore blasted Sirius into its path.”

The Dark Lord nodded. Yes. Bella informed that she had been aiming for you. She was suitably punished for her actions.”

“When can you bring him back?” Harry asked, desperation and hope in his voice.

“I never left, Harry,” a voice said quietly from behind him.

Harry whirled around and came face to face with Sirius, his heart hammering in his chest. “Siri?”

Sirius smiled softly at him. “The one and only, kiddo.”

Harry gaped like a fish out of water. “How?”

Sirius grinned. “Believe it or not, it was Bella. She’d heard from a trusted person that Albus had been doing some rather unusual things and had overheard that there was going to be an attack to get me out of the way. He was losing his control over you because you had me to defend you and was able to take you away from your relatives. It was his way of controlling you, by keeping you there because they kept you weak and dependant. What you saw die and pass through the Veil was my golem. Bella helped me create one that could function like me and not have me in the line of fire.”

Harry reached out to touch him and paused, as if afraid to find he wouldn’t be real. Strong arms wrapped around him and pulled him into a tight hug. “I wanted to come to you, but while there was even a chance that you were still in Albus’ favour, I couldn’t take the risk.

He nodded. “I understand, Siri,” came Harry’s muffled voice from Sirius’ chest.

Voldemort coughed discreetly. “Am I to assume that I have your full allegiance.”

Harry turned in Sirius’ embrace and nodded. “Yes, my Lord.”

Sirius chuckled and showed his left arm. “Already there, let’s get you Marked.”

Harry knelt before the Dark Lord, sleeves still rolled up and presented his left forearm.

“Harry Potter, do you swear allegiance to the Dark side, to me, and do all that I ask of you?”

“I do, my Lord,” Harry said clearly.

“Do you swear to tell any information that could be useful, no matter if it is personal?”

Harry nodded. “Yes, my Lord.”

“Do you accept my Mark willingly, without reservation, hesitation or doubt?”

“I do, my Lord.”

Voldemort’s wand touched the unblemished skin of his forearm and Harry smirked as the Dark Mark formed on his flesh.

“Now, I have a question of my own. Severus’ tale of your...problem, is it true?”

Harry sighed. “It is. Granger hit me with a curse intended for Ron when he told her that he wasn’t interested in her. He was already in a committed relationship with Dean, my Lord.”

“The two with you?”

“Yes.”

“And no cure has yet been found?”

“No, my Lord. Madame Pomfrey has been working to break it, but has so far been unsuccessful.”

Voldemort said no more and took care of Marking Ron and Dean, giving them both permission to hide their Marks.

x~x~x~x~x~x~x

Two months of silence passed with no calls to appear before the Dark Lord. Snape returned to the castle with them and was warned should he try to lie again, he wouldn’t be tortured, but killed without question.

For appearances sake, he remained a bastard to them in classes, but outside he was cordial at best. It amused Harry to see the Potions Master, cold and cruel man that he was, flinching at the mere sight of Harry. 

Then a pink tinge would suffuse the sallow cheeks and Snape would hurry off in the opposite direction. It appeared he’d had more of an effect on Snape than he had originally thought. It was amusing to no end to watch and something that Harry never really got tired of.

Harry still visited Pomfrey to try and remove the curse, but nothing proved useful. He steadily withdrew from everyone, including Ron and Dean, and his two friends grew increasingly concerned for him.

Since the night he’d taken the Mark, Harry had learnt what Dumbledore was after. Harry had immediately dispatched an owl with word that Harry needed to see Voldemort as soon as possible.

An owl returned mere hours later with orders to go that night, Harry sent a message to Snape through his watch and went to dinner. His appetite lacked of late and that evening was no different. Ron and Dean sent him worried glances and Harry had to force himself not to snap at them, they were just concerned for him after all.

The glances continued throughout the entirety of dinner and Harry’s nerves were slowly fraying. “Guys, I’m fine. Please stop with the looks.”

Dean sighed. “Sorry, mate, but for you not to be eating, we know there’s something bothering you.”

Harry shook his head. “I’ll talk to you both later. I’ve got to go see Madame Pomfrey, I’ll see you both later.”

Ron nodded. “Want us to walk you?”

“Nah, I’ll see you both back at the tower.”

Taking off, Harry made it to the Infirmary without incident. He went through the usual rigmarole and, again, his results were no different.

Back at Gryffindor Tower, Harry flopped to the rug in front of the fire and sighed. “Nothing.”

Ron smiled gently. “She’ll find something, Harry. Madame Pomfrey’s persistent, she won’t give up until she’s found a cure.”

Harry made a non-committal noise and watched the flames jump and flicker, small dots of ash being thrown out onto the carpet before they disappeared with the self-cleaning charm that was applied to all the floors in the dorm.

“I think she’s at the stage of giving up. She’s tried everything she knows and spent hours doing research, but nothing is working.”

Dean got down on the floor with him and rubbed Harry’s back soothingly. “We’ll find something, Harry. I promise we won’t give up looking.”

“Thanks, Dean. Come on, we should get some sleep. We have a busy time ahead,” he said cryptically.

Ron caught the hint then they all agreed it would be wise to try and get a couple of hours sleep in. Harry would wake them when Snape called. 

Going to sleep at eleven ended up giving them three hours of sleep before Harry’s watched alerted them it was time to go. Getting his two friends up, Harry herded them down to the dungeons and were floo’ing away ten minutes later.

Bowing before the Dark Lord, Harry strode forward when called. “You said you have news on what the old man was doing?”

“I do, my Lord. He saw fit to take me on a little quest. We retrieved a locket from within a cave, my Lord. I believe he called it a Horcrux?”

Voldemort’s scream of rage almost burst Harry’s ear drums, making him jump away and cover them up. “How does he know about these?” He screeched.

Harry cringed at the volume. “Something about a memory? A Professor Slughorn gave him it.”

The Dark Lord pointed his wand at Harry, a Crucio no doubt about to be fired.

“If that curse passes your lips, you’ll never see me again,” Harry said coldly.

The wand dropped and Voldemort looked at him, stunned. “You dare stand up to me?” He hissed.

Harry narrowed his eyes. “I have done nothing wrong. Do not take your displeasure out on me for bringing you vital information.”

“So I shall curse one of the others, it matters not to me.”

Harry hissed angrily at him. “It does to me! You’re pissed off, I get that, but don’t punish those loyal to you. It will only serve to drive them away and then you will have no followers.”

Voldemort eyed him carefully. “Why do you challenge me when others fear to?”

“What have I got to lose?”

“Your life. Isn’t that enough for self-preservation to kick in?”

“My life has been forfeit since the day you killed my parents. Once the old man realises what I am, he’ll never let me live.”

Voldemort blinked slowly, confusion in his red eyes. Looking up slightly, his gaze locked on the famous lightning bolt scar and realisation appeared, his lips sliding into a lazy smirk.

“It is no matter, my dear Harry. I will not let him kill what is mine.”

“Harry? What’s going on?” Ron asked quietly.

Harry’s eyes flicked to him and back to Voldemort. “I’m a Horcrux, Ron. A piece of Voldemort’s soul lives in my scar, has done since the day he tried to murder me as a baby. Our lives are tied together, permanently, and if one of us dies, then so does the other.”

Ron’s face darkened. “Don’t you think it might be possible that’s been his plan all along?”

Harry frowned. “What do you mean, Ron? You don’t think he knew about all of this beforehand do you?”

“He’s been practically turning you into a sacrifice, Harry. What if you weren’t as powerful as you are?”

Harry blinked. “Well, I’d be... Son of a bitch! You’re right, Ron, he’s always known. Dumbledore has always been planning for me to die. That way, the path would be clear to take the credit for killing Lord Voldemort and be the strongest wizard alive.”

Ron nodded grimly. “See where I’m going with this? He’s been purposely keeping you unaware of your magical strength. When the time was right, he could send out his little weapon to battle, and it would have been a certainty that you’d have died, killing the Dark Lord while he was at it. Sacrificing The-Boy-Who-Lived for the Greater Good of Wizarding kind.”

“I’m going to kill him!” Harry screamed in rage.

Dean walked up and, like when in the Common Room, rubbed Harry’s back in a soothing way. Smiling gratefully, Harry relaxed enough not to lose his temper.

“Why are you rubbing his back like that?” Voldemort asked curiously.

Dean looked over at him. “It soothes him. Harry calms quickest through physical contact.”

“I don’t understand. Is this something to do with those Muggles?”

Harry made a choking, whining noise, trying to back away. But Dean enveloped him in his arms. “Hush. It’s okay, Harry, I’ve got you.”

“Yes, it’s to do with Harry’s Muggle relatives. From the day he was placed with them, they treat him like filth. Harry was starved beaten, worked to the bone and severely abused...he didn’t even know his own name was Harry until he was finally put into school. They’d always called him ‘boy’,” Ron said.

Dean sighed and nodded. “It’s all true. Professor Snape once called Harry ‘boy’, and he flipped. He just sat on the floor and started rocking, begging not to be beaten, that he’d be good and do better. It was one of the scariest thing that I’ve ever seen. I’ve never seen him so frightened and weak, like a toddler.”

Voldemort growled, his face a picture of disgust. “I may have spent the last sixteen years or so wanting him dead, but to treat one’s nephew like that is disgusting.”

Ron snorted. “You think that’s bad? The real kicker came when we found out Dumbledore knew all along. He was fully aware that his relatives were treating him that way. Harry’s mum hated her sister, and how she felt about magic, but he placed Harry with them and sent him back every year of school.”

“Why am I not surprised? When I myself was a student at Hogwarts, he never listened to my pleas of what went on in the orphanage. No matter how many times I went to him, begging not to be sent back again, he just said that it wasn’t as bad as I was saying, that if I kept my head down and stopped making trouble, then the nuns would leave me alone.”

Dean murmured softly to Harry, but the smaller did not seem to be calming down. If anything, Harry was becoming more distraught.

“Harry!” Voldemort hissed in Parseltongue. “Calm yourself at once!”

The young wizard looked at him and flushed red with embarrassment, though his breathing started to even out. “My apologies, my Lord.”

Voldemort looked at Harry carefully. “Is there something else I should know?”

“No, I’m fine, just lost in memories. We should be getting back. It’ll be getting light out and we can’t all have unexplained absences. People will start to ask questions and it will get harder for us to come here.”

Ron nodded. “Yeah, you’re right. The last thing we need is one of the Prefects doing a spot check and finding all three of us gone in the middle of night. It’s not like when we were first years, they’re really cracking down on the night time wanderings.”

Harry bade a quiet goodnight to the Dark Lord, and the three students plus Snape floo’d back to the castle. The Gryffindors made it back to their dorm under disillusionment charms, and luckily encountered no one. 

Falling into bed, Harry stared at the canopy of his bed and replayed Voldemort’s words in his mind: ‘I will not let him kill what is mine.’ It left Harry with a strangely warm feeling at the thought of being someone’s. With that in mind, he fell into a sleep free from dreams and nightmares.

x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~

It was a mere five days later that Harry finally snapped and crumbled. Madame Pomfrey had been forced to end Harry’s treatment when she had still been unable to find a cure for the curse which still plagued Harry.

The seventeen year old had managed to make it back to the tower and into his dorm room before breaking down and sobbing. He didn’t look up from where he sat against his bed on the floor, knees tucked up to his chest, as Ron and Dean walked in, locking the door and putting up silencing charms, attempting to calm their hysterical friend.

“Harry?” Dean called softly, approaching slowly, as if Harry were a wounded animal and could attack at any moment.

Harry looked up, his eyes red and puffy from crying, face splotchy. “She’s given up. Madame Pomfrey said she can’t treat me anymore.”

Ron sat on the bed and laid a hand on Harry’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, Harry. Maybe we can find something in the Restricted Section.”

Dean sat on the floor next to Harry, stroking his back gently. “Yeah. There must be something that we’ve missed.”

Harry shook his head. “I’ve looked through every single book in there. I don’t know how she knew that curse, but she didn’t find it from any book in the school.”

Dean sighed heavily and gave his hand a squeeze. “I know it’s like flogging a dead horse, but we could try asking her again. Maybe she’ll give something up.”

Ron nodded. “It certainly can’t hurt to try, Harry.”

“Yeah, sure. Either of you know where she is?”

“We passed her on the way up here. She’s in the Common Room. Come on, mate,” Dean said softly.

Harry nodded, pulled himself together, dried his eyes and got up off the floor. “All right.”

Heading down to the Common Room, Harry found her sat on the sofa reading some Chars text. Harry sat on the armchair opposite her and quietly cleared his throat to get her attention.

Hermione looked up and frowned. “Yes?”

“Please, Hermione, this has gone on long enough. Please tell me where you found that curse,” Harry pleaded quietly.

Hermione sighed and marked her page before setting the book down. “I didn’t find it. I created it.”

“What? Then why did you tell me you don’t know the counter curse?”

“Because I never made one. I planned on using it on Ronald, so I had no reason to come up with a counter curse.”

“You know that Snape is saying he got the information about me after sleeping with you? I confronted him the other day. He said you told him after he’d pretty much fucked your brains out,” he sneered.

“What?! I did no such thing! He’s lying! I’m certainly not that desperate!”

Harry laughed coldly. “Perhaps not, but you were desperate enough to get one over on me and go running to him.”

“It was the only thing I could think to do after you blew up my potion!”

Harry suddenly went bone white. “You told the bastard personal things about me because I blew up your fucking potion? You twisted fucking bitch! I’ll kill you!” He screamed.

Launching himself off the chair, he made a grab for her, but Ron and Dean darted in, snagging his arms and pulling him back. “She’s not worth the expulsion, Harry!” Dean bellowed.

Snarling and thrashing around, Harry broke free and punched her in the face. “I swear on my parent’s graves I will make you regret ever coming up with that fucking curse!”

Hermione cupped a hand to her nose, blood pouring from between her fingers, but she said nothing. The two Gryffindors gave Hermione a disgusted look and dragged Harry away back up to the dorm. 

Shutting the door behind them, Dean burst out laughing. “Did you see the look on her face?”

Harry gave him a tired grin. “Before or after I broke her nose?”

Ron doubled over, clutching his sides and laughing so hard he was struggling to breath. “I wish we had a Pensive! That’s a memory worth watching again and again.”

Harry laughed and patted Ron on the back. “I will endeavour to obtain one for you.”

The trio chuckled about it until it was time to go to sleep. They only managed a couple of hours before their Marks burned, calling them to the Dark Lord. 

Hustling down to the dungeons, they floo’d with Snape and were met with a furious Lord Voldemort, face pinched in rage. “Why was I not told that Dumbledore had found one of my Horcruxes?” He hissed.

Harry looked at him in confusion. “I was only aware of the one, my Lord.”

Voldemort turned to Snape. “Severus? Have you been keeping things from me? Are the rumours of your turning against me something that I should be listening to?”

Severus met the cold red gaze head on. “I give you my word, my Lord, I knew nothing of them until Potter told you about the locket.”

Snarling angrily, Voldemort turned his back on them. “This is not good. I learnt today that three of my seven Horcruxes are no more.”

“Seven?” Harry asked quietly.

The Dark Lord turned to face him. “The seventh was unintentional.” His eyes flicked to Harry’s scar briefly.

“What are the others?” Harry asked, wondering if he’ seen any and not known it.

“So you can run back and tell the old coot exactly what to look for?” Voldemort hissed coldly.

Harry shook his head. “No. I’m wondering if I’ve seen one and not realised what it is.”

Pausing in his rage, Voldemort thought about it before he nodded. “Salazar’s locket, Marvolo Gaunt’s ring, Ravenclaw’s Diadem, Hufflepuff’s cup, the diary I had as a child, Nagini, and you.”

Harry winced. “Ah... the uh, the loss of the diary would be my fault, my Lord.”

Voldemort’s slitted nostrils flared. “Explain yourself!”

Harry sighed and told him about the Chamber of Secrets. “In my second year, the school was being terrorised by something that kept leaving the students petrified, literally. A memory version of you trapped in a diary befriended me and lured me to the Chamber, with the intention of killing me. The basilisk was set on me and I managed to kill it. One of its fangs stabbed me, poisoning me. I pulled it out and stuck it through the diary, destroying it.”

Voldemort looked at him incredulously. “You killed my basilisk? You managed to defeat a sixty foot snake?”

Harry nodded slowly. “I did, my Lord. The sword of Gryffindor appeared to me and gave me the tool needed. It’s highly ironic when you look at it now.”

“And you were twelve at the time?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

Voldemort threw his head back and laughed. “I find myself at a complete loss for words. You, a mere twelve year old child, managed to kill the most deadly serpent in existence?”

Harry cocked his head and shrugged. “Well, when you put it like that it does all sound rather fantastical.”

“You are a wonder, Harry Potter. Tell me, how goes the search into finding a cure for your problem?”

Harry’s face darkened, eyes flashing dangerously. “Madame Pomfrey has admitted defeat. She’s tried everything she knows and done all the research she can. My treatment is no longer continuing.”

“I see. I wonder if you might permit me the chance to see if I might be able to rectify the problem?”

Harry blinked stupidly. “Of course, my Lord.”

Harry closed his eyes and soft chanting reached his ears as magic washed over him. He gasped at how pleasant it felt, like silk sliding over her skin. Something tightened in him, seemingly like an elastic band that was overstretched, until it snapped and Harry was left with his senses alive.

The feeling of the Dark Lord’s magic washing over him became more intense, filling him with sensations he’d long forgotten. A twitch in his groin had Harry nearly crowing for joy, the magic still feeling so good to him.

Suddenly, the chanting and magic stopped, leaving Harry to at their loss. Opening his eyes, he looked down to find his trousers bulging at the crotch, something he’d thought he would never see again.

“You did it,” Harry murmured, awed.

Voldemort nodded. “The one thing Poppy will not resort to is the use of Dark Magic. The curse your schoolmate used was extremely dark, and it would only take that to break it again. Without it, you’d be stuck with it for the rest of your life.”

It made sense. The old saying was to fight fire with fire, so why not battle Dark Magic with Dark Magic? Though he was glad to have his body fully functional again, Harry willed his erection to go down.

Blushing slightly, Harry cocked his head thoughtfully. “Why does your magic feel so good to me?”

“Good? You have experienced unpleasant magic before?” Voldemort asked.

Harry nodded. “Well, Ron and Dean’s magic just feels like magic—neutral almost. It was the same with Madame Pomfrey. But Professor Snape’s made my skin crawl. It was weird, felt almost slimy- I’ve never experienced something so unpleasant before.”

“It boils down to magical compatibility,” Voldemort said quietly.

Harry frowned. “I don’t understand,” he murmured.

Before the Dark Lord could respond, an owl swooped into the room, landing regally in front of Voldemort. The pale, tawny owl stuck out its leg and Voldemort took the proffered letter. The bird was sent to get refreshments from the owlery, leaving him to read the letter. Harry watched the serpentine face closely, surprised to find a look of smug pleasure flit across the greyish face.

“Severus, show young Dean and Ronald to one of the guest rooms, they will not be returning to Hogwarts tonight. It would appear that their absences, along with Harry’s, have been noticed. I believe you will have the Granger girl to thank for that, not that I can count myself displeased.”

Snape did as asked and without question or remark, showing the two Gryffindors from the room, the pair of them chatting animatedly behind him. Harry turned back to face Voldemort, still awaiting an answer to his question.

“Follow me, Harry, I have not forgotten that you wish for answers.”

He frowned, but followed silently. Being led from the throne room and down the hall, Harry found himself directed into a lavishly decorated bedroom. And despite the bedroom clearly belonging to the Heir of Slytherin, there was barely an ounce of green in sight. Harry couldn’t exactly say he was alarmed to be in the Dark Lord’s bedroom, but he was confused.

Voldemort chuckled at his expression. “You needn’t look so confused. I thought it best we be comfortable while I answered your questions.”

Harry sat in an armchair before the fire and snagged a biscuit from the plate that appeared. “So, magic has compatibility?”

Voldemort sank into the chair opposite with a soft groan. “Yes...and no. It’s not just the magic that is compatible, but the person as well. Two people having magical compatibility are also known as having an Affinity. It basically means that we could combine our magic’s and cast together, making an incantation much more powerful. It also means that if one of us were weakened then we would be able to ‘borrow’ magic from the other.”

Cocking his head in thought, Harry nodded his head slowly in understanding. “But why did it feel so good? I mean, doesn’t an affinity normally appear when the two people are lovers?”

“Generally speaking, yes. But you have to remember that you and I are bound by my Horcrux living in your scar. We are bound together somewhat in the same way as lovers are.”

“So my magic would feel good to you as well, them?” Harry asked.

“Most likely, yes.”

Harry slipped his wand from its holster on his forearm. “Can I try?”

Voldemort laughed. “If it will help satisfy your curiosity, then by all means, cast away.”

Murmuring a soft string of Latin, Harry directed the magic at the Dark Lord. Harry heard him gasp, fingers tightening on the arm of the chair, while Harry’s groin twitched in response. “See what I mean?”

The magic disappeared and the Dark Lord groaned, shifting discreetly in his seat. “Yes, I see precisely what you mean.”

More shifting in his seat and Harry realised Voldemort was trying to hide a suspicious tent in his robes. Harry took pity on him. “Don’t worry about it, the same thing happened to me.”

Voldemort’s greyed cheeks pinked slightly. “I apologise, this doesn’t normally happen.”

Harry got up and laid a hand on Voldemort’s arm. “It’s fine,” he gasped. “You don’t have anything to be ashamed of.” Sparks shot up his arm, lighting his nerve endings on fire, pleasantly so.

Voldemort yanked his arm away and scrambled from his chair, attempting to get as far away as he possibly could, dignity be damned. “What are you doing to me?!” He hissed furiously.

“I’m not doing anything! I have no idea what’s going on.”

“Why you?!” The Dark Lord hissed, backing further away.

“Why me what? I haven’t bloody done anything!”

Rounding on Harry, Voldemort stalked forward. “It appear we have a little more than an affinity. My soul, what’s left of it anyway, recognises yours as its...mate, the counterpart to my own.”

Harry backed away slowly. “Surely that’s just because of the fragment of your soul in my scar?”

“No, a soul cannot form this kind of bond with a piece of its own.”

“What does it mean?” Harry squeaked, Voldemort getting closer. 

Backed against the wall, Harry looked up into Voldemort’s burning red eyes. The Dark Lord lowered his head and hissed in Harry’s ear. “It means my body will only respond to you.”

Harry shivered and moaned quietly. “Is that why you were able to break the curse on me so easily?”

Voldemort’s head rose back up. “It was likely a contributing factor, yes.”

A pleasurable shiver shot down Harry’s spine at the long, drawn out ‘S’. “And the result of this reaction isn’t something that you’re used to?”

His head lowered again, back to Harry’s ear. “No, it isn’t. I can safely say that the last time I experienced an erection was when I was still a student.”

Harry struggled to breathe with the Dark Lord’s close proximity. “A um... a long time then?”

Voldemort chuckled darkly. “A long time indeed. What do you think about being the cause of my current predicament, Harry?” He drawled.

Harry gulped. “Rather like a mouse being stalked by a snake.”

Voldemort chuckled, head raising just enough to be nose to nose, if he had one, and flicked his forked tongue briefly against Harry’s lips. “The idea of me does not disgust you?” He murmured quietly.

Harry bit back a whimper. “Why would it? You’re an attractive man, powerful...” Harry inhaled. “Erm... what was I saying?”

“You were listing my non-existent attributes.”

Harry laughed breathily. “Nothing non-existent. Your height is domineering, it commands obedience. Your eyes captivate me, hold me prisoner. Your voice is like cool water sluicing over my body, sibilant and seductive. I could go on, but I fear I may end the party a little too soon,” he muttered cryptically.

Voldemort blinked before a smirk slid over his lips. “Who said the party had to end?”

Harry had no time to come up with a response before Voldemort’s thin lips descended on his own. All coherent though vanished in the face of being kissed breathless. Their mouths moved in perfect sync, Harry having to clutch at the Dark Lord’s robes, his knees threatening to buckle.

Oblivious to anything around him, Harry lost himself in the kiss- his lungs screaming for air while his brain. And his lips begged him not to end it. Keening softly, Harry relented and broke their lip lock, his lungs gulping for air while his fingers still clung tightly.

The Dark Lord seemed shocked by his actions, his fingers tracing over his lips in wonder. Soon enough, a smirk slid onto them. “I will give you one chance to walk away now and I will not hold it against you. If you stay, you are mine. Forever.”

“I want to stay... Please,” Harry pleaded quietly.

Voldemort nodded. “You are mine, Harry. I won’t share you- I’d sooner kill you myself than give you to another person.”

Harry shivered at the use of such strong words, strangely turned on, and took a step closer to the Dark Lord. “Please, my Lord, don’t make me wait longer than I already have.”

His mouth was once again descended upon, a tongue flicking against his lips, begging entry into the warm cavern it knew lay beyond the closed lips. Opening his mouth, Harry slipped his own tongue out and stroked along the forked one, playfully inviting the length of muscle back into his mouth.

Before Harry could realise what was happening, he found himself backed against the frame of the bed and a gentle push on his chest was all it took to send him sprawling onto the sheets.

Voldemort seemed to hesitate before finally joining Harry on the spongy mattress. It occurred to him that the Dark Lord’s remark on his last erection being at thirteen most likely meant that Harry was going to be first sexual partner.

“Does it bother you that I’m not a virgin?” Harry murmured, eyes downcast.

Voldemort smiled gently. “Does it bother you that I am?” Harry shook his head. “Then there is your answer. The fact you have more experience than me does not detract from how much I want you.”

Harry raised his head to meet Voldemort’s eyes. “How come you are a virgin? You don’t have to answer of course!” Harry cursed his inquisitive, teenage mind.

“I never had any interest in sex before. But watching you manipulate Severus into wanting to come was the first time I’ve had any interest in anything sexual for a very long time.”

Harry nodded and blushed. “I uh, I don’t normally top, I prefer being the bottom.”

“That is fine, we will work this out between us and find what makes us both comfortable. You do not need to be so nervous.”

Blushing again, Harry grabbed his robes and pulled him down for another bruising kiss, his fingers slowly working Voldemort’s robe open. His nimble fingers made short work of the material and silently crowed with delight when he accomplished his task.

Harry ran his fingers over the skin of the Dark Lord’s chest. He took note of how different the skin felt to his own. Every bone was sharply defined, each rib could almost be gripped, the stomach sunken, but taut at the same time. He realised just how obvious it was that Voldemort’s body was emaciated, especially now that the heavy robe was off.

Much colder than his own heated flesh, Harry was reminded of tissue paper at the texture of the skin under his fingertips. And yet, he found he was not repulsed by it. None of it. Every new thing that his hands found made Harry more aroused.

Breaking the kiss again, Harry left Voldemort’s lips in favour of his chest, kissing and nipping, then soothing with his tongue. Quiet gasps and moans above him only served to goad Harry on, questing lower until he came to the waistband of light, flannel, black trousers.

Hooking his fingers under the elasticated material, Harry pulled the lightweight material down pale, thin, hairless legs. The Dark Lord’s hips lifted, aiding Harry in fully removing them. The young wizard was rewarded with the sight of Voldemort’s bobbing erection and hairless balls.

The hard length twitched in time with Voldemort’s pulse, each movement making Harry’s mouth flood with saliva. Having the Dark Lord fully naked, Harry thought it only fair that he even the playing field. Stripping his own clothes off hurriedly, re-joining Voldemort on the bed.

Deciding to retrace his steps, Harry went back to Voldemort’s mouth and kissed him slowly, savouring the mildly spicy taste of the older wizard. Moving down to his neck, Harry nipped at the skin where he could feel Voldemort’s pulse, soothing it with soft kisses and flicks of his tongue.

Sliding further down, Harry paid attention to both of his nipples, licking and biting until both were hard and slightly reddened. He kissed the concave stomach, dipping the point of his tongue into the navel. 

Finally, Harry arrived back at Voldemort’s erection, the head purpled and angry looking, as if pissed off it had been neglected for so long. A glance at the Dark Lord’s face showed the bright red eyes glazed over in the face of his lust.

Flicking just the tip of his tongue over the head, Harry moaned at the taste and in response to Voldemort’s quiet gasp. He tasted like musk, earth, warm and cold at the same time. It was a sensation like none other than he had ever experienced. 

“Being a Parselmouth has another use besides conversing with serpents,” Harry smirked, looking up.

Voldemort turned his hazy gaze down to Harry. “And what use would that be?”

Instead of answering, Harry swallowed the head, and half the length with it, his tongue doing things that shouldn’t be possible. Voldemort cried out, his hips bucking to get deeper into the wet warmth that was Harry’s mouth.

Struggling to get the full length into his mouth and throat, Harry had to pump the last few inches with his hand, making sure that every millimetre of Voldemort’s cock was being stimulated.

Bobbing his head, Harry used his tongue to stroke the thick vein underneath. The grunts and moans above him made his own cock twitch appreciatively, causing him to double his efforts to make sure his Lord enjoyed the experience.

Fingers slid into his hair, but not to push him down or urge him on. They gently tugged him back, forcing Harry to release his cock with a soft pop. Looking up, he frowned slightly at Voldemort. “Something wrong?” He asked softly.

“I am an old man, Harry. It is unlikely that I will be going for a second round if you continue this course of action.”

It took Harry a moment before he realised what Voldemort was saying. “Oh. Right. Do you want me to give you a minute to calm down?”

Voldemort smirked. “Not at all. What I want is you on your back waiting for me.”

Smirking, Harry climbed back up the bed and laid back, legs parted invitingly. A flash of lust shot through the red eyes focused on him and Harry’s smirk widened. Sticking his hand out, Harry muttered an 'Accio' for some lube and a jar of oil shot into his hand with a muted slap. He passed it to Voldemort with a smile, his fingers brushing the Dark Lord’s and enjoying the sparks that shot between them.

The Dark Lord took the proffered jar and dipped his fingers in. He looked at the glistening substance clinging to his long digits and rotated them under the light, looking at it curiously.

Harry rolled his hips and grinned. “Come on, before I burst.”

Voldemort chuckled and knelt between Harry’s thighs. Pushing a single finger in, he crooked it and pumped steadily.

Harry moaned loudly. “Fuck...another one!”

A second quickly joined the first, wringing yet another moan from Harry’s lips. He managed to keep sense of mind long enough to make a scissoring motion at Voldemort until the older wizard got the message and began carefully doing the same with fingers buried in Harry’s arse.

“I won’t break,” Harry groaned.

“I am aware of this, I simply wish to enjoy the experience of you writhing on my fingers.”

Harry chuckled breathily, it tapering off into a moan. “Oh god, do that again!”

“Like this?” The Dark Lord asked and crooked his fingers so they glided across Harry’s prostate again.

Nearly bolting off the bed, Harry demanded a third finger in him. His body sang with pleasure, every nerve seemingly ablaze with the desire that Voldemort was inciting in him.

“Enough. Please. I want you inside me. Now,” Harry begged.

Voldemort seemed ready to argue but apparently thought better of it. Nodding, he dipped his fingers back in the jar of oil and spread the substance over his cock, coating the pulsing organ liberally.

“How would you prefer I penetrate you?” The Dark Lord asked croakily.

“Like this, I want to see you,” Harry whispered softly.

The Dark Lord sat back on his heels and pulled Harry onto his thighs, the young man instantly wrapping his legs around Voldemort’s waist. Locking gazes, Harry fought not to close his eyes, not wanting to break the sizzling connection they had just simmering below the surface of their desire and lust. 

The blunt head of Voldemort’s cock nudged against his opening and slowly began pushing into him. Harry hadn’t been stretched nearly enough, but he enjoyed the delightful burn of his body being breached. 

Feeling completely full, Harry couldn’t wrap his head around how more could be sliding into him, filling his arse more than he thought ever possible. His prostate was brushed over, making sparks of pleasure shoot up his spine.

Fully seated in Voldemort’s lap, Harry groaned in pleasure and flexed his hips, wringing a hiss from him and a moan from the Dark Lord. “For the love of Merlin, start moving!”

He slowly pulled almost entirely out of Harry, and grabbed his hips before he slammed back in brutally. Harry cried out and grasped the sheets to anchor himself, eyes never leaving Voldemort’s face.

The pace continued and Harry was nearly in tears of frustration. Voldemort carried on his unrelenting pace- pull back, slam in, pause, and repeat. Babbling furiously, Harry had no idea what he was saying, completely lost in a haze of pleasure and sensations. “I can’t...please...let me...” Harry babbled.

Voldemort chuckled darkly. “Just because I am inexperienced does not mean I don’t have a clue what to do to make sure you enjoy yourself, the aesthetics are simple enough if one takes the time to study enough. Feel what I’m doing to you, Harry. Stop focusing on your need to climax and feel beyond it.”

Doing just that, Harry was swept away in a tide of sensations. The slow glide of Voldemort’s cock as he pulled from Harry’s body, the re-entrance into his arse and the pause that drove him insane, his own cock pulsing heavily with need, leaking at the lack of attention it was receiving.

Every sensation built until Harry was keening loudly with need, unsure if his body could take any more. As if sensing the young wizard was at his end of tolerance and could take no more, Voldemort’s thrusts changed, and soon he was slamming into Harry continuously, his own pleasure spiking and causing him to moan.

Having his prostate repeatedly battered left Harry crying out and coming violently between their bodies, coating his stomach and chest in pearly white strands. His body twitched, causing jerky little movements. Harry was aware enough to register the Dark Lord’s muted cry above him, hot seed filling his arse as Voldemort found his own release.

The older wizard leant down and caught Harry’s lips in a bruising yet tender kiss, once again leaving Harry breathless. Smiling lazily when it ended, Harry groaned softly when Voldemort pulled out of his body and laid to Harry’s side, enveloping the teen in his arms.

“Wow,” Harry whispered.

“I quite agree.”

Wriggling until he was closer to Voldemort, Harry threw an arm over his waist and yawned softly. “Is it all right if I sleep here?”

Voldemort paused before speaking. “And tomorrow night?” He asked tightly.

“I planned on spending tomorrow in bed and sleeping in the same place, and the night after that, and the next night, and the next night,” Harry grinned cheekily.

“Then yes, you may stay here.”

Harry didn’t say anything else, his soft snores filling the room. It was possibly the quickest time he’d ever fallen asleep, comforted by the cool skin against his own heated flesh. 

“Goodnight, Harry,” Voldemort murmured, kissing the teen’s head gently and laying down to sleep himself.

x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~

Harry surveyed the grounds where friend and foe like had fallen, brutally cut down in the violent battled that had taken place not moments before. The castle stood strong as ever, her silence an ever present familiarity. Hogwarts had helped them safely remove the students before the battle had started as the Dark Lord had no quarrel with the young pupils.

Six weeks had passed since Harry had spent the night in Voldemort’s bed, six weeks since he had spent every night since sharing that same bed with the man he had come to love. 

The look on Dumbledore’s face when Harry had appeared from behind Voldemort’s robes and smiled serenely at the old man. The battle had raged around them, but Harry refused to acknowledge anything other than making sure that Albus Dumbledore did not walk away from that battle alive.

Their fight had been long and hard, but no other result could have come, no matter how much Dumbledore had fought. Harry’s wand had emitted the bright green jet of the Avada Kedavra, and the twinkle in Dumbledore’s blue eyes had faded until they were glazed and dull. And when his dead body had struck the ground, Harry felt nothing.

He’d felt some remorse when he’d found Hermione’s body among the dead. He mourned for their former friendship and what could have been regained in the future. She’d been killed by Bella, though entirely by accident. The crazy witch had not been aiming for Hermione, but the young Gryffindor had unfortunately gotten caught in the crossfire.

Dean was ensconced away in the Infirmary, getting patched up from a nasty cutting hex meant for Ron. It had been pretty touch and go for a bit, no one sure if he was going to make it, but Dean surprised them all by point blank refusing to die. Ron hadn’t left his side since.

A Hand rested lightly on his shoulder and Harry smiled, the touch so familiar he would know it anywhere. “How are you holding up?” The familiar voice murmured.

Harry looked up at him and his smile widened slightly. “I’m... okay, funnily enough. Is Professor Snape going to pull through?”

“Yes. The werewolf, Lupin, is currently sitting with him while your godfather is being healed. There were some rather spectacular words flying around at being pulled away from Severus. Lupin interjected and agreed to sit with him until Sirius was healed.”

Harry grinned and sniggered. “That was an unlikely turn of events.”

It had been momentarily traumatising for Harry to walk into his godfather’s bedroom to find Snape on his knees, Sirius’ cock between his lips. Harry was still trying to wrap his head around it, especially after their childhood feud that was practically legendary.

Voldemort chuckled. “Indeed. It seems that Sirius has been harbouring affection for Severus for some time now.”

“I’m just happy he’s happy. If that’s with Snape, well, I can learn to live with that. But if he does anything to hurt Sirius, I’m calling first blood.”

“Of course, Harry. And what of you?”

Harry frowned. “What about me?”

“Are you happy?”

Harry turned around and faced him properly, hearing the unspoken ‘happy with me’. “Of course I’m happy with you, my Lord. Coming to you was the second best decision that I’ve ever made.”

“Second best?”

Harry nodded and reached up, cupping the Dark Lord’s sunken cheek. “The first best decision I ever made was agreeing to share my life with you, and agree to marry you.”

Voldemort smiled and kissed Harry’s palm. “Shall we go home?”

“Not just yet. I want to make sure the others are okay and see Sirius.”

“Very well, we have the time.”

Harry smiled at him. “All the time in the world now. I love you.”

“And I you, Harry. I always will.”

Without the threat of Dumbledore over their heads, Harry saw a bright and wonderful future just on the horizon. And judging by the amount of proposals flying around, plenty of weddings too.

His own was set for the fall, October 31st, to be precise. Though Harry felt little connection to the couple who had died to save him, Harry wanted to mark the day with something more enjoyable and memorable than the day his parents fell.

It was true he felt nothing for his deceased parents, but he was certain that were they alive, they would be happy their only son had found peace and love, even if with the unlikeliest of persons.

After all, an old man had once said that love was the most powerful force in existence. Harry just didn’t think the old man expected him to find it with his supposed enemy. 

Glancing down at the ring on his finger, Harry grinned and looked back up. “You know what, let’s go home and come back later. I want to show you just how much I love you,” he said, leaning up on his toes to give his fiancé a kiss.

“That, my One, sounds like a fantastic idea. Home it is.” And with a soft crack of displaced air, they vanished from sight, leaving only a pair of footprints in the wet grass.

~x~x~ Finis ~x~x~


End file.
